Good Eats
by C-ko
Summary: Farfie has some fun while Nagi and Brad are out.


Teaser: Farfie has some fun while Nagi and Brad are out.   
Rating: PG-13   
Spoilers: None!   
Warnings: Misuse of food.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss! So sad! I also don't own Jiffy. That's not so sad...   
  
Um... I wrote this for mi mejor amiga, A-chan, because she seems to be having the worst week of he life and I figured she needed some cheering up.   
  
Give me reviews! I crave them!!!! ::snarls::   
  
  
  
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Brad Crawford glared impatiently at his young teammate as he rushed about in his attempts to get ready for school. His frown deepened as the small Japanese boy scurried about, looking for his house keys. There was one thing the American assassin truly hated, and that was being late. And right now, he was about 5 minutes late for a meeting with Takatori.   
  
"Nagi, if you don't hurry up, I'm leaving without you."   
  
Nagi cringed and increase his efforts. He had already missed several days of school and couldn't afford to be absent again. Crawford tapped his foot warningly as Nagi rummaged through his things. The small Japanese boy twitched and resisted the urge to crush his leader's foot with a lovely telekinetic weight. /I swear... If he wasn't an integral part of my life, he'd be dead right now./   
  
The telekinetic let out a cry of joy and held the missing keys aloft. "Yes!"   
  
/Finally.../ The arrogant American sighed and strode towards the door. "Come on." The brown haired assassin quickly shoved the keys into his pants pocket and gathered his things. So intent on getting to school, Nagi failed to notice Schu's Uniarmed Kinky Bondage Squall action figure someone had lazily left lying about.   
  
"Dammit!" He cursed as he tripped and his papers and books were scattered about the hall. /I really hate Thursdays.../   
  
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The Irishman's ear perked up as he heard a door close. He smiled a broad, menacing smile. /There's one.../   
  
His smile grew as he heard the door slam again a minute and a few curses later. "And there's two. Now for some fun." He giggled and pulled out a shiny lock pick. With Nagi and Crawford both gone, the pychopath had run of the empty house.   
  
As he gently swung his cell door open, he suddenly wondered what had happened to Schu. The red head had gone out last night and never came home. The assassin shrugged to himself. It didn't matter, he was most likely drunk in some ally. /Drunkenness hurts God./ He hoped Schu was very drunk.   
  
Farfarello pranced merrily over to the cabinet and pulled the door open hastily. "Hello, my friends! Have you missed me?" He pulled out a box and started munching on the contents. "Ah... Mr. Fig. Mr. Newton. How I've missed your fruit and cake goodness!" He popped another into his mouth "Ah... You're so sinfully goood!"   
  
The white haired man quickly discarded the Fig Newtons, though, when something else caught his eye. "Hello there... Where did you come from?" He pulled out the jar and cradled it lovingly. "I know Crawford would never buy you. He hates you and your kind." The cyclops gazed thoughtfully at the jar as he carefully removed the lid. "The boy must have bought you. Such a good boy." He stuck his finger into the jar and licked it thoroughly, smiling sinisterly all the while. "Such a good, good little boy..."   
  
"Hm? What's that?" He leaned closer to the jar and listened. "Yes, yes... That would hurt God." Farfie gave the jar a seductive look. "That's why I like you best, Mr. Jiffy. You're always so baaaaad!"   
  
The Irishman gently placed the jar onto the counter. Licking his scarred lip, the yellow-eyed man teasingly fiddled with the top button of his shirt. "I'm bad too, Mr. Jiffy." He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his muscular torso.   
  
"You like that don't you Mr. Jiffy?" He dipped his slender finger into the jar and rubbed them tantalizingly over his scarred chest. "Oh... Mr. Jiffy."   
  
Farfarello's dirty fingers slowly moved to the button of his tight leather pants. He giggled slightly and tilted his head questioningly. "Ready, Mr. Jiffy?"   
  
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Schu staggered up to Schwartz's current home. /God... my head./ He had only meant to have one or two drinks, but he always seemed to get carried away. The telepath had woken up on the bathroom floor of some club he couldn't remember visiting and now he was suffering from one of the worst headaches of his life.   
  
The red head fumbled for his keys and put all his concentration into conquering his newest and greatest adversary: the door. Schudrich finally over came adversity and lurched into the house. /I'm going to sleep for a week.../   
  
"I'm ho..." The German man blinked in surprise, his hangover temporarily forgotten. "Farfie?"   
  
The naked assassin looked up from his position on the floor. "Welcome home, Schu."   
  
The red head stare incredulously at his psychotic teammate. "Is that peanut butter?"   
  
Farfarello stretched his peanut butter covered body temptingly and reached for the jar lying next to him. "Mr. Jiffy and I hurt God." He lazily ran his fingers across his sticky chest. "Wanna join us?"   
  
The confused and generally disgusted German blinked again as his mind tried grasp the site before him. "I... I think I'll go to bed now." The red head turned and stumbled down the hall to his room.   
  
"If you change your mind, Schu... Threesomes hurt God!" 


End file.
